


conch

by offensiveandgay



Category: Voltron - Fandom, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: AU, M/M, Radio, adult klance, klance, slowburn, white haired keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-19 04:16:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11889810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/offensiveandgay/pseuds/offensiveandgay
Summary: Lance is the voice of a classic rock station.The only issue is, he knows nothing of rock.But his new co-host does.





	conch

I rolled down a few black textured slides on my board and turned off my mic, letting my bulky headphones fall down to rest on my shoulders and around my neck. I swear, I'm running out of material. I mean, every five minutes or so they have me talking about nothing to nobody and then have me play another Alice in chains song. Of course it's only thirty second of conversation with myself, but the well is running dry.  
"Lance, we really need to switch stations." Pidge opened the glass door with a struggle, due to her height and body mass being nothing compared to the heavy door. If I were to guess, using my height as a reference, Pidge is an inch tall. She wears thin circular glasses, and has large hair that points in every direction no matter how much hair spray you use. I don't think one ever seen Pidge when she's not wearing a green of some sort.  
"What do you know about classic rock?" I scoffed looking down at her.  
"What do you know about classic rock?" She retorted, crossing her tiny arms over her chest defiantly.  
My eyes widened. "Well roasted, young one."  
She took a bow, muttering a few 'thank you's as if it was slam poetry night and her shitty poem finally got the recognition she felt it deserves.  
"But, they're bringing in a second host. So as long as he knows rock, I just have to be entertaining. Not educated."  
Pidge moaned and left the room, muttering on about how she knows nothing of her station and if only we worked for a techno music station. 

I chuckled to myself and leaned back in my computer chair, opening my phone. I keyed in a text to Hunk and sent it without proof reading.  
"I'm on air, buzz off." It read. Love you too Hunka-Hunk. Hunk Garrett was the host for classical music, a gig that Pidge begged for. But Hunk was just too good at his job. With his soothing voice, old people and hipsters couldn't get enough. To everyone's surprise, Pidge worked in Rap. Our theory is that all of the tough guys who listen to the station get a kick out of hearing a small and squeaky voice provide them Kanye West and Odd Future, and listen in every time she's on air. That would explain why Pidge is making more money than me. I do just as much work but she gets all the listeners just because of irony. 

Speaking of work. I faded the music out as I slowly brought the volume of my mic upwards. "You're listening to 93.4 The Sound, This is Lance, ready to bring you the classic rock hits that you love." I went through the required speech, checking my nail polish quickly. "Soon we're bringing in a new guy who knows more than I do. If I'm going to be honest with you guys, I know jack about rock. I was raised on Taylor Swift and Hannah Montana, but this guy. I hear he's good but I'll have to put him to the test. And lucky for you, the same day I meet him you will too! That's right, and it's coming up soon so get ready. Up next, Jean Simmons is trying to trade mark this iconic rock symbol? If you know what I'm saying, call in your answers," I repeated the station number and it's phone before turning on some Tom Petty and turning off my microphone. I felt my phone vibrate in my jean's pocket.  
"I'm off! :)" Hunk responded.  
"I just got off to. Why don't you ever come into my booth?"  
"Because, what if I miss my vocal break and all they hear is silence!"  
"Hunk you don't go on for a while just come bring me my Chapstick."  
I heard the foot steps of my sandal wearing best friend from next door. He had on cargo shorts, the pair that I hate with a passion, and a mellow sweater vest. He always wore this orange headband that clashed with his shirts but no one had the heart to tell him.  
"Thank you!" I chimed as he opened the door and put down my cake batter Chapstick. I personally can never get enough of its sweetness, but Hunk is more of a vanilla kind of guy. Not in the sense that he was boring, but more traditional and tame.  
"It's no problem, but Lance." He dramatically put both hands on the desk. "Please stop leaving stuffed animals in my booth."  
I held in a laugh. "Oh come on! I know you love it."  
"At first, yeah! Come look at it!" He tried to keep a serious face as he led me to the room beside mine.  
"Look!" He stuck his arms out, show casing the sight before me. Stuffed animals of all shapes and sizes littered the area. Some resting on his desk, some below. Even one attached to his sound board. 

I really couldn't contain this laugh now. I held my stomach for effect and wiped a fake tear. "Okay, okay." I walked over to the desk and took off my large Shark stuffed animal. His name was Shark. Original, I know. "I'll take this off of your hands."  
"Lance come on! Take more!" His phone buzzed in his pocket. He quickly checked the screen and practically ran over to his station. He made a signal for me to get out as he started talking into the mic.  
I made my way back to my room, tilting a painting in the process. It was a thing I did to keep spirits high. This job could be annoying. One time, this caller phoned in and asked me to play Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. On a classic rock radio. As much as I would love to do that, I do want to keep a stable job, so no. I set down Shark on my desk, on top of the speakers. When the new guy comes in I'll let him take one of Hunk's stuffed animals. He hates them, it's so funny. Actually. I checked that I didn't have a break for a while, which I didn't thanks to mostly commercial free Friday, and stepped into Hunk's booth. He was still on air. His eyes widened at the sight of me and I could only hear a slight shock in his voice. I grabbed some stuffed animals with great care and thought before leaving Hunk confused and talking to hundreds of old people. 

I started at the end of the hall. "Coran, Coran, the gorgeous man!" I threw a squid into the room, the old ginger man catching it immediately. The reflexes on this guy, I swear. His beloved mustache was the same color as the squid and his polo shirt. Coran was our boss, but if he did have a station it would probably be 24 hour animal sounds. He held the plush sea creature in his hand.  
"What is it?" He asked examining every inch of it.  
"Uhm? It's a squid."  
"A squid!" He exclaimed, holding it in front of him as if he were staring at a newborn child. "What's his name?"  
His name? I hadn't thought that far. "His name? It's Coran Junior."  
"Wow! And it's named after me! Astounding, truly." He gave it a squeeze and set it back down on his desk.  
I closed the door behind me and opened Allura's door. Allura ran the pop station. I am eternally jealous that she managed to score it before me, but I'm sure her age factored in to getting the job. Her impossibly long hair had recently been dyed a lilacish-white that matched her outfit today.  
"Hey Princess!" I knocked on the already swung open door.  
"You are so lucky I wasn't on air!" She scolded, walking over to me.  
I took out the giant lilac mouse and handed it to her.  
"Awe! Lance! Thank you."  
I bowed, copying Pidge's exact movements from earlier.  
I threw Shiro, he works with alternative music, a black cat with purple eyes that looked like his but exaggerated. Pidge got a green owl, and hunk a yellow dog. Why the toy manufacturers decided to make a yellow dog is beyond me. I had my blue shark, and I guess the new guy would get whatever I have left. I looked at the last thing in my hands. A red hippo? Once again, I was confused at the reasoning behind such odd animal coloring. I rested it on the chair that would be for him and checked my timer. It's almost time to let the night shift hosts take over. I went on air for only a little while, answered a phone call that told me "This is Chuck calling from a gas station! It's the.. the.. the devil horn hand gesture thing!". We appreciate you calling Chuck, you had it right but couldn't get it out like you wanted. 

I pulled on my jacket and said hello to Sven as he sat down and stared at the shark and hippo in confusion. I took out my phone and opened the station group chat. "Guys! Let's go out and get some fries, I don't want to be alone tonight!" I sent in, immediately getting a flood of messages from everyone. Thankfully, everyone was good to go and no one had to carpool. I told everyone which joint to meet me at and started my car. I turned on the radio, putting in Weezer's Make Believe album. It was one of the only ones I owned. But that's okay, I think this and the Mama Mia soundtrack is enough.  
"I have many fears about my motives, I have many memories of pain." I was probably getting the lyrics jumbled, but I sang too loud to hear my mistakes. My car was a decent size. When Hunk and I were in highschool, we dreamt of having a van. Lame, I know, but we had big plans for it. We would paint it and it would look like 70s hippies lived in it. With our income combined I'm sure it's obtainable, but I don't think it's ever happening. My light blue bug named Gasoline-Bitch was good enough. Hunk had a yellow jeep that he refused to name. He said that if I get attached, the A.I. over taking will only be harder. I guess he's right but that doesn't make it any easier. I love naming things! I wish I could have named myself. Damn, imagine that. I would name myself Snake or something. Actually, maybe it's for the best that I wasn't given that freedom. Gasoline-bitch had a few stickers on the back, such as "my other car is JESUS" and "my kid was an honor student at the stripclub." Old women in parking lots love those. It's interior was... cleaner than usual. There were only two chip bags on the ground today. It did make my car smell spicy though. Thankfully, the ride was short and I was sat down with Shiro and Allura quickly. The small joint was 50s themed and smelled like mayonnaise.  
"So," I dipped my fry into the small cup of vinegar, "any tea on my new anchor dude?"  
"Like, childhood stuff?" Shiro scratched the back of his neck, his muscles in plain view. Shiro worked out every day, I'm sure. It's insane to me. I go to the gym with him sometimes. Occasionally. Who am I kidding, I only go when forced. But I run every morning!  
"Why would you know that kind of stuff, stalker." I chuckled, pointing my drenched fry at him accusingly. Allura giggled, staring at me as if I had two heads. My eyes snapped back to him, and it seemed that Shiro saw the extra appendage too. "What?"  
"Lance," He laughed, "it's my brother."  
"Woah." I planted my hands on the sticky table, which I immediately regretted. "I'm going to see your brother at work now?"  
"We aren't brothers by blood, but yeah. You didn't know?"  
"No!" I can't believe such a large thing was being withheld. Was this planned? Am I being pranked?  
Pidge sat down across from me, taking my food without hesitation. "What's up?"  
"Lance didn't know that his new partner is Shiro's brother." Allura stated, sipping her lemonade. I really liked the logo for this place. I don't know how too describe it, or why I liked it so much, but compliments to the web designer.  
Pidge looked over at me with a smug look. "How did you not know Keith is his lil' bro."  
"Keith?!" I shouted. "This is all going to fast! Too many secrets being purposely kept from me!"  
"Last week I literally told you, 'Go easy on my brother Keith he's a little awkward.'" Shiro looked puzzled. It was as if my stupidity was something new.  
"Well hot damn." I laughed. Once again, Lance is the fool of the group. I just have issues listening, I suppose. I'm not to blame though. My stupid head is the issue. I guess I am my head though, so maybe I am stupid.  
"Hello everyone!" Hunk sat down in the booth seat with Allura and Shiro.  
I shook my head and metaphorically washed my hands of my negative thoughts. Tonight I would enjoy my friends and coworkers, and not focus on who I was.


End file.
